


heartache

by yahootoldyou



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Multi, Suitless Vader, Vaderwan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-06 13:37:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15887112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yahootoldyou/pseuds/yahootoldyou
Summary: He stalks forward, ripping the sheet off of another fighter he had stolen from the Jedi remains collected after Order 66. The red fighter that once belonged to one Obi-Wan Kenobi- Jedi Master,Vader’sJedi Master… It’s red has dulled as well.His vision is returning to gray.He spins on his heal, sucking in a breath and reminding himself to not yet panic. Vader doesn’t panic and the feeling rising in his soul is soAnakinthat he beats it back. He’s been searching for this woman for ten years on and off, whenever his schedule had allowed. Unfortunately, her stubborn need to repent anddieis shortening his timeline.OR: the soulmate AU where when your soulmate dies your vision returns to the gray color it was before you found them... Vaderwan style.





	1. Chapter 1

He stops, his face scrunching. Is that fighter turning… _gray?_ Vader moves into a hangar he hardly touches anymore, passing a powered down R2D2 without really paying any mind to the small droid. It’s been ten years since Padmé died and therefore ten years since he shut Artoo down, unable to bear hearing about what a monster he’s become. 

But he was always a monster wasn’t he? Look what he’d done to his soulmate. He’d ignored her and left her to rot basically. And that was many years before he actually left her. He’d been Anakin Skywalker when he did that to her. He didn’t need to be Vader to be a monster. 

It’s then that he turns around again, because even as he’s made sure Artoo stays in prime condition over the years; cleaning, repairing, and painting… The blue astromech is no longer the blue he once was in Vader’s eyes. He rubs his eyes again, making sure he isn’t imagining it, but no. Artoo’s bright blue paint appears to be graying. Vader turns to look at his fighter again, the one from the Clone Wars. It’s yellow paint seems dull, the color of sand on Tatooine in the darkest parts of night where only the moon’s reflection sheds light on the planet. 

He stalks forward, ripping the sheet off of another fighter he had stolen from the Jedi remains collected after Order 66. The red fighter that once belonged to one Obi-Wan Kenobi- Jedi Master, _Vader’s_ Jedi Master… It’s red has dulled as well. 

His vision is returning to gray. 

He spins on his heal, sucking in a breath and reminding himself to not yet panic. Vader doesn’t panic and the feeling rising in his soul is so _Anakin_ that he beats it back. He’s been searching for this woman for ten years on and off, whenever his schedule had allowed. Unfortunately, her stubborn need to repent and _die_ is shortening his timeline. 

“Admiral,” he orders into his comm.

_“Yes, My Lord?”_ He questions and Vader wants to choke him. He hasn’t done anything wrong, but this feeling in Vader’s chest, this tightness, makes him want to anyway. He wants to lash out. He hasn’t found her yet, how dare she be dying!

_You have zero right to her, Anakin,_ part of him hisses and he wants to snarl. _She’s mine!_

_She hasn’t been yours since you were nineteen and married Padmé. You know it to be true._ Vader hisses out loud. 

_“M-My Lord?”_ The Admiral hesitantly asks over the comm and Vader is startled out of his mental argument.

“Have the prisoner ready for interrogation,” he hisses again and hears the Admiral hesitate before complying. He can’t blame the Admiral for it though, the prisoner is just a child and his tactics are known for their cruelty. The force sensitive princess of Alderaan waits in a cell for him. He breathes in deep, in and out. He refuses to harm the child unless it’s absolutely necessary. He will return her to her parents for one increasingly important piece of information. 

The location of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Bail Organa is a known rebel sympathizer, even if his involvement cannot be proven, and he had been Obi-Wan’s good friend. If anyone will know where his wily Master has disappeared to, then it will be him. 

And this force sensitive adopted daughter of his is the perfect bargaining chip. 

For a moment, he is blinded by memories. 

_“What will you do, Anakin? Will you kill me?” She had asked, her gaze falling to the unconscious Padmé on the deck. Her eyes are full of concern for the heavily pregnant women who carries Anakin’s children. Even if Anakin-no, Vader knows how much the fact that he chose Padmé in the end burns._

_“Will you take my life fully this time?” She questions him again and he is bathing in rage. He should kill her. She stands between him and the rest of his life just like she always has, but… But it’s Obi-Wan. Even on this planet swimming with the corruption of the dark side, she is a bright light. He won’t kill her, he will fight her into submission and take her as well as Padmé, his sick brain tells him, he can have them both._

Now Vader stands in a corridor, long since lost Obi-Wan when she removed his other arm and threw his weapon into the lava. In his shock, he had fallen to his knees. She had ran. 

Vader had ran up the hill as quickly as he sensed Obi-Wan’s departure, but it had been too late. Both Obi-Wan and Padmé were gone. Days later, he had attended his wife’s funeral shrouded in anger and darkness. 

Still her last words etched themselves into his brain and refuse to leave him all these years later. _You were my everything, Anakin. Despite everything you’ve done… I loved you._

Vader snarls, stalking off towards the cell that holds the princess in it. The door slides open and the young girl looks so much like a young queen he once knew that he nearly loses it. Still, it isn’t the girl’s fault she looks like Padmé. She is pushed so far against the wall, her body trembling and eyes wide. His heart softens. She is the same age his daughter would have been. Anger soars in his soul, but he forces control. None of this is Princess Leia Organa’s fault and he is above taking his pettiness out on a child. He makes sure his eyes are blue as he squats in front of her. 

“Hello, Leia… My name is Anakin,” he greets and the girl relaxes a tad against her own control, the child easing at the presence of someone who appears to be kind. Still the child says nothing, her eyes suspicious. He knows he needs to keep talking. 

“Don’t worry, Young One, you aren’t in any trouble,” this is true, “your father is on his way to get you as we speak. You won’t be here much longer.” This isn’t so true. Bail Organa is on his way to Vader’s location. If he complies then he won’t make Vader a liar. Still, he views her force signature and must admit she would be powerful. Perhaps someday, if he can get her to trust him, he will take her on as an apprentice to dethrone the Emperor. Eventually, when he sits next to the girl and offers her his embrace she takes it, hugging ‘Anakin” very tightly. He’s ashamed to say that he hasn’t had a hug in a long time. It feels… nice.

_All the more reason to track down Obi,_ his brain supplies and he smiles. He stays with her, speaking kindly about her life until he is alerted that her father has arrived. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he says and Leia doesn’t cry out for him to stay as much as he can tell she wants to. Again her strength impresses him. He closes the cell and makes his way to the hangar Bail Organa awaits in. 

The man has aged and the worry in his face is evident. He recognizes Anakin immediately, but he isn’t surprised to see him. Anakin’s eyes narrow just a tad. He must know something. 

“Lord Vader,” the politician says and Vader smiles coldly in his direction. 

“Cut the pleasantries, Organa. I have your daughter. She is unharmed. Tell me what I want to know and she goes with you, no questions asked and no report made to the Emperor,” he says and the hangar is free of any troops on his orders. This is private. Nobody can overhear their conversation. 

“Why would you do something like that?” The man asks, awe and surprise evident in his tone. It is no secret that Vader hates Bail Organa. he hates the reminder of his past that Organa is, even if he and Skywalker were never close. Bail had been close to Padmé, to Obi-Wan, Vader despises him for it. He hates that it isn’t just him that mourns their loss. 

“I want the location of Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says and it’s plain as day. Organa sputters, his eyes wide and fearful. 

“W-Why would you suppose I know where she is?” He questions and Vader steps closer into the man’s personal space, his eyes narrowing. He leans into the man’s ear, whispering menacingly. 

“I know what your daughter is, Organa. I will make her my apprentice to spite you if you do not give me what I want. You can have her though, It doesn’t have to be this way.” He watches Organa struggle with something for a moment, stepping back out of his space, yellow eyes glaring down at the shorter man. 

“Why, Skywalker? Why _now?_ You never chose her before,” he says and Vader’s eyes widen in turn. _How dare he-_

“You should be careful not to get too personal with me, Senator. My temper is not known for it’s patience and your young daughter is still very much my prisoner,” he threatens, his anger returning. Bail stiffens and winces as if slapped with the reminder that Leia is still in danger. His politician gaze returns, his composure fixed and he nods at Vader, coming to a decision.

“The last known whereabouts of Master Kenobi were in the Outer Rim. A system called Tatoo,” he answers and Vader stiffens. 

_“Tatooine?”_ He blurts out and Bail doesn’t answer again, but Vader knows. Of course Obi-Wan went to Tatooine, it was the one place Vader or Anakin would never willingly return. There and Naboo, but Obi-Wan has her own negative history with that beautiful planet. Still, he is very much finished with the Senator’s presence. He orders the soldiers to bring in the girl. 

Leia throws herself at her father as she bursts into the room, sobbing in his arms. Bail’s attention is solely on making sure she’s okay and for a moment, Vader thinks about what might have been. He shakes it away, watching as Organa takes his daughter on to their ship. 

As they leave, Leia twists her head around to look at him, her hand tight in her fathers grip. She cannot wave so she risks it. 

“Goodbye, Anakin,” she calls and Organa stiffens, looking down at his daughter and then over at Vader who smiles wickedly. Let the stuck up bastard sit with that little bit of information. Organa shoos Leia onboard before looking back at Vader once more with a sad gaze. Vader cannot discern why before Organa retreats up the ramp, the ship quickly leaving the hangar. 

Vader makes haste to his private hangar, alerting his Admiral that he must depart and will be back soon. The man asks no questions and knows that he must be discreet about Vader’s absence.

Artoo chirps back to life as Vader kneels before him. His dome swivels and he eventually looks at Vader, letting out a mournful whistle. 

**You’ve aged… How long did you keep me asleep?** He questions and Vader looks down in shame. 

“You didn’t want to be a part of what I was doing, Artoo. I’m sorry,” he answers vaguely and the droid rolls backwards, an air of distrust surrounding them. 

**Anakin would never have done that to me… Are you truly not him?** Vader sucks in air quickly, surprised the droid would know to ask a question such as that. He reaches a black gloved hand out, placing it on Artoo’s dome. 

“I’m not him, but parts of me are the same. You’re still my friend, Buddy,” he soothes and Artoo still seems suspicious, but chooses not to answer him. Vader sighs, knowing it will take time to build up the droid’s trust again, but hopefully having both him and Obi-Wan here will help with that. 

“Come along then, Artoo, we have a mission,” he says and the droid follows slowly, looking around the hangar around them. It’s not the place where Vader had shut him down for what must have been several years, which means he’s been moved. If Artoo had to guess, he assumes Vader never moved to a new place without making sure Artoo was with him. He watches Vader enter the yellow fighter they both used to share and Artoo enters it as well. For a moment at least, the droid can pretend that Anakin is still Anakin, and not this off mockery of him. 

“Set coordinates for Tatooine, Artoo,” Vader orders and he does so. He doesn’t need to ask why they’re going to Tatooine. He knows where Obi-Wan had gone before Vader had found him left behind on Polis Massa while on a desperate search to prove his dead wife was alive. It was his choice to be separated from Threepio. He hadn’t wanted Anakin to be alone. 

Anakin had turned him off though, wasting Artoo’s choice anyway. 

He does as he’s told and the ship leaves the hangar. 

 

 

 

 

Obi-Wan looks up from under her hat at the blue sky of Tatooine. The air is unusually humid today and she misses the dry heat she’s used to. Soon, she will hop on her bantha and take the trek across the desert to watch young Luke from afar. 

She finishes collecting her water from the vaporator and walks into her small hut. She passes the chest with her Jedi belongings, placing the jugs in the kitchen beside her meager groceries she has from her last trip to the market. She makes a note to go again soon. In the corner are the droid pieces she picked up, scrap from the ones who fought in the Separatist army in case she must fix her machines. 

She isn’t half the mechanic Anakin had once been, but she isn’t useless either. She’s made due. 

The days here seem to be getting longer and she knows she should meditate, should try to find Qui-Gon within the force the way Master Yoda had instructed, but she can’t. She can’t let go of her anger and her hurt anymore. Maybe that means she’s failed, but she can’t yet. 

She can feel the separation from her soulmate beginning to weigh on her more and more. The bond that has been dormant for ten years aches and burns in the back of her mind. She needs to do something, needs to act to prevent the collapse that she knows is impending. 

She can’t return to Vader though. To do so would disobey her orders and her morals. He had made his choice and it wasn’t her. This would’ve happened eventually, whether he were Anakin or Vader. He was her death sentence either way. 

She wonders if he feels it too, this mental and heart tugging strain. 

She wanders out to her bantha and reflects on how off the air feels today. She reaches out with the force, but it reveals nothing to her as usual these days. It’s drowning in the dark side and she can do nothing to save it. 

She sighs, bouncing along as the bantha makes his way towards Luke. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is wasting away and she wonders… She wonders how much longer she can do this for.


	2. Chapter 2

It is just after dark when she once again returns to the homestead, the twin suns setting as her backdrop as she made her way home from watching Luke. Luke is growing more and more every day, the ten year old beginning to look exactly like Anakin had when she first met him. She mourns the loss of her precious Anakin in ways people will never understand, but she doesn’t forgive him. 

He made his choices, left her heart to rot… She will not forgive the careless way he tossed her aside. This soul deep pain is from his time before Vader. No, the pain of Vader isn’t even something she can touch. To her, her soulmate died ten years ago. Her continued existence is just his punishment for her having loved him while he yearned for another. 

Anakin never said it, but she knows he resented that Obi-Wan was his soulmate. If such things were possible, he would’ve ripped apart her soul and his own, just to lay them down as gifts at Padmé’s feet to prove his devotion. She winces, her heart throbbing painfully. Perhaps her delayed death is finally upon her. She walks slowly to the stove, pulling apart some veggies and pouring a jug of water to a pot to make some bland soup. 

She uses her sifter to take the salt from some of the sand in the lower level of the hut, hoping to give the watery substance an ounce of flavor. Come to think of it, she hasn’t been to the market in several weeks. Obi-Wan frowns, letting the combination simmer for a while even as her stomach begs her to dig into the unappetizing stuff now. She wrinkles her nose. Opening the chest in the corner and summoning her lightsaber to her with the force, she carves an apple into the sandstone to remind her to go the next morning. 

She finds it’s often hard to remember things these days out here in the desert all by herself. 

_“Master Kenobi! Master Kenobi!”_ She hears a shrill voice calling and is suddenly glad her lightsaber is in her hand. Her hat flies off her head at the speed she rushes out into the cold night of the desert. Her long hair flies behind her in the wind, cascading around as she looks for who dares utter that name. She hasn’t been a master of anything in over ten years.

She hears the metallic gears whirling and is sucked into a world of painful memories, it occurring to her too late that she knows the shrill voice calling her name. 

_“Master Kenobi, I really don’t think Mistress-“ the droid’s voice cuts off as Padmé silences him with a wave of her hand._

_“Obi-Wan,” she gasps, rushing over to give her friend a hug. Obi-Wan winces as she does, but accepts the hug nevertheless. She could use it after everything she’s just witnessed… No._

_“Do you know where he is?” Obi-Wan asks, because she can’t be cordial with this woman right now. Not when Anakin has murdered all of the Jedi in the temple. Not when- She cuts her own thoughts off, looking back down at her friend, the lovely Senator Amidala._

_Padmé stiffens and removes herself from the embrace, moving away as if threatened. Her voice is terse as she replies, “No.”_

Obi-Wan shakes off the throws of painful nostalgia. There, waddling across the desert sand, is C3PO himself. She swallows as the fussy thing approaches her, contemplating running her lightsaber through him just to end the painful reminder that he is. She decides against it. Rationally, the last person this droid was in the possession of is Bail and he may be bringing her a message she needs to hear. Besides, he’d be a painful reminder dead or alive. 

“Pardon me, Ma’am,” the droid inquires as he approaches, “are you a Master Obi-Wan Kenobi?” She considers that Bail must have wiped Threepio’s memory, but the inquiry strikes at her bone deep. She supposes that even if Threepio remembered her, he may not recognize her. She looks nothing like the general she once was.

“I was once Obi-Wan Kenobi... I go by Ben now,” she answers vaguely and the droid hesitates, but seems to understand her meaning. 

“I have an urgent message from Master Bail for you,” he warbles and she nods, knowing deep down that Vader is coming for her. She felt it in the air, the humidity… The sense of doom. She waves an arm, gesturing for the droid to proceed. 

“He says he’s sorry, but he had to trade your location to keep Princess Leia, his daughter, safe… He suggests you have little time to flee,” Threepio passes along and she finds herself agreeing. Assuming Bail sent Threepio right away, there’s no telling if she’ll be able to leave the air space quickly enough before the entire force of the Empire reigns down on her. Still, she hastens toward her old fighter, knowing she must lead Vader away from Luke. 

After a moment, she pauses, turning back to face the droid. Leaving him behind to chip away in the Tatooine desert is her smartest plan, but he is something that Anakin made when he was still so pure… She finds herself unwilling to let the droid die the way Anakin had. 

“Well, come along then, Threepio. And please call me Ben,” she asks and Threepio hurries further into the night with her, whining about how calling her Ben would be against protocol. She nearly snorts, wondering not for the first time how this worried droid is a product of Anakin Skywalker’s raucous rambunctious self. 

She knows she will be caught here, the force is making that plain, so she sends Beru the SOS signal warning her to stay in the homestead with Luke and flies towards Mos Espa, the furthest city from the boy. She will draw her soulmate to her by exposing herself as a Jedi…

Hopefully, in his distraction, he misses Luke entirely.

 

 

 

 

Vader orders a larger ship follow them as they take off into hyperspace, one flown by only the 501st. He knows she won’t come willingly, but with her obviously weakened state, he hopes she isn’t too terribly difficult to catch. He doesn’t want to harm his soulmate, as laughable as the notion may be after all that he’s done to her in the past. 

Just a few hours later, they fly out of hyperspace and his communications are once again open with his ship back where he left it. 

_“My Lord,”_ a voice comes over the comm, _“reports from the troops on Tatooine confirm there is a Jedi in Mos Espa. Reports say her only companion is a gold protocol droid.”_ Vader’s head snaps up from the controls at that and Artoo warbles confusedly as well from where he sits in front of Anakin. 

“Thank you, Admiral,” he dismisses, punching the coordinates for Mos Espa into the local navigation bank. Artoo is getting louder, questioning if Vader believes it to be Threepio with her on the planet’s surface. 

“I’m not sure, Buddy… It could be,” he offers and Artoo snorts. 

**Aren’t you supposed to be all knowing now, Lord Vader?** He taunts and Vader has to bite his tongue to not lash out at his friend. 

“There’s no need for that, Artoo, and you should be careful. I may look like Anakin Skywalker, but i warn you my temper is much shorter,” he threatens and the astromech shuts up. Vader sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands as Artoo leads the ship down to the surface. 

Tatooine looks the same as always, but it is different somehow. Mos Espa, the city of his youth, is still filthy and he leaves the ship on the outskirts. He knows he’ll have to track Obi-Wan down on foot. 

“Artoo, stay with the fighter and contact the support ship with our location,” he orders and the droid’s dome spins to look at him. Apparently, he’s still upset about the threat Vader made earlier. 

**Why should I? So you can drag your unwilling mate back to your side?** If droids could hiss, that’s what R2 would be doing. Vader steps backwards, startled, before snarling at his old friend. 

“Keep this up and I’ll melt Threepio to scrap in front of you,” he promises, grinning smugly when the droid whines and submits, making the transmissions to the ship above. He walks down the slope into the city, taking in the sights of his youth. He hasn’t been here since he was nineteen and wonders if Watto still has his shop.

Probably, he thinks even as his mood darkens. A Jedi wielding a lightsaber was spotted at a local cantina, defending a wookie from an attack. Vader can’t remember Obi-Wan being friends with Wookies, but it’s been ten years. Maybe he doesn’t know her anymore. The thought is horrifying and he casts it aside. 

Obi-Wan never changed in the years he knew her, it is foolish to assume she’s changed much now, the stubborn creature she is. He walks towards the alleged cantina when he sees a body come flying out the door of the seedy joint, a wookie chasing the flung figure and checking to see if they’re okay. 

He approaches, seeing the woman brush herself off. He almost dismisses the possibility of it being his old Master at first... Her bronze hair is long and unruly, the curls flinging in every direction. Her skin is so very tan unlike what he remembers of the pale alabaster skin she used to sport during the war from her upbringing under the cloudy skies of Coruscant. She lacks the strong posture and rigid holding of her head, her being much more relaxed than his Obi-Wan had ever been. 

Her strong arms and legs have thinned as her work here requires her to work out far less. In fact, if it weren’t for the mischievous way her lips turn up and her eyes glint as she reassures her wookie friend, he wouldn’t have recognized her at all. 

“Don’t you worry about me, Pal,” she slurs, “I’m all good.” Vader wrinkles his nose, realizing that their first reencounter will have to occur when Obi-Wan is too drunk to appreciate it. Her hair is blonder than he remembers, no doubt a result of the sun. 

“Master Ben!” Threepio wobbles over to the woman who smiles up at him extending her arms and allowing both the droid and the wookie to help her up. She pats Threepio on the shoulder, not even noticing Vader’s presence in the force around her. 

_How drunk is she? It must be bad._ Just like the time they drank with the pirates on Florrum and ended up chained to the Count himself. Vader grins to himself, remembering how even though the circumstances had been dire, he and Obi-Wan had a blast mercilessly teasing the Count. 

And what name is _Ben?_ That isn’t even a name most people would… He remembers. _Satine_ called her Ben. It was a nickname from when she had been on the run with the Duchess back when they were-

Jealousy over comes him and he swallows it down. At least it won’t be hard to catch her in this state. Finally, her blue-green eyes turn to see him standing there and they widen. 

“No,” she whispers, “it _can’t_ be. I must be drunk,” she murmurs, a hand coming up to stroke his cheek. She smiles a sweet smile, using her fingers to trace the contours of his cheeks. 

“I have to be dreaming… I thought you’d never return to me, Ani,” she says and he can’t help it, he wraps her in his arms, hugging her frail body. It’s then that the situation truly dawns on him. He’s here because Obi-Wan is dying. He steps back again, taking in just how thin she is and the bags under her eyes. No wonder she thinks she’s hallucinating.

“Threepio, you’re with us. Wookie, I suggest you go back to whatever it is you were doing before this,” he warns, not wanting to disrupt the happy mood Obi-Wan is in. The wookie looks angry for a moment, but a young man appears in the doorway. 

“Chewie! I got a lead on who we’re looking for-“ he pauses looking at the scene in front of him and beckons the wookie to come back inside. “Chewie” looks at Obi-Wan’s limp form in Vader’s arms in what seems to be pity before he takes his leave. 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan moans softly, “Anakin, please don’t leave me again.” He frowns, knowing the woman is falling asleep in his arms and swiftly lifts her into his arms. He carries her across the desert, finding their escort ship beside the one he had landed with Artoo. 

The little astromech cries out, launching from the fighter and approaching the gold droid. 

“Oh, goodness me!” Threepio cries, “Have we met?” At this, Vader frowns and Artoo whistles mournfully. The droid tries to remind Threepio of memories they share, but the golden droid just becomes flustered. 

“Artoo, we’ll find a way to overrun the memory wipe. You’ll have Threepio back, I promise you,” Vader assures him and Artoo warbles off a long list of curses Vader’s way before flinging himself back into the fighter. Clearly, the droid has finished this discussion with him. 

Vader wants to be angry, but he understands. Threepio was Artoo’s partner. For him not to recall their shared adventures must be very difficult indeed. 

He orders a trooper to fly with Artoo, not confident the droid won’t deliberately try to kill him at this point. He needs to contact his ship to make sure they’re ready for when he arrives with Obi-Wan. He needs her on a nutrient drip right away.

A force suppressor may be helpful at first too, just incase his fiery soulmate returns with a vengeance after she is no longer intoxicated. He lays her down on a bench in the transport and leaves to make arrangements, comfortable knowing he won’t be gone long. 

 

 

 

With Vader unaware, Obi-Wan opens her eyes. Her plan had worked. Vader had come to Tatooine and left without discovering his son. She reaches out softly, mentally saying goodbye to young Luke and wishing him the best before allowing her very real exhaustion to overcome her. 

It occurs to her as she does that she never turned her stove off. 

_Well,_ she thinks to herself as she drifts off, _that hut is just as fucked as I am._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in a 24 hr span?? I must be crazy! anyway, hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

When Obi-Wan finally does awaken, she’s no longer on the ship where she fell asleep. Instead, the sheets she now lays on are luxurious in a way that makes her uncomfortable. She has never felt the need to indulge in such things and doesn’t quite remember for a moment why she’s there. This isn’t Tatooine and her bed of sand is far from her now. 

She considers groaning, but doesn’t want to draw unneeded attention to herself. Her confusion fades quickly though and she’s happy she didn’t move or make noise. Her drunk performance had been marvelous, Vader eating out of the palm of her hand. The question now is if she should keep pretending to be in the beast’s hands or remove herself from him. She has no doubt if he doesn’t know she’s awake yet he will soon and she needs to decide before he arrives. If Obi-Wan faces Anakin unprepared… She’s afraid of the explosion that could result. 

_Ben facing Vader_ , she reminds herself sharply. This is not the past. It isn’t the two people who used to love each other reuniting, it’s _enemies._ That term pulls at her heart, her vision graying for a moment. To think that she is enemies with the other half of her very being is physically painful and yet it’s true. Vader is everything Obi-Wan once fought against; a Sith, a murderer, a man who betrayed his vows and ideals. She sniffles, suddenly aware of the tears that have gathered in her eyes.

As strategic as it would be to play into Vader’s sympathies by pretending she missed him enough to forgive him… She _can’t._ She will rebuke him because anything else is too far from the Jedi Code she swore herself too and also dangerous. She knows if they get close again their bond will drag her to him eventually, begging her to claim and fortify their soulmate status. 

_He didn’t choose you before, what makes you think that’s what he wants from you now,_ her brain teases and she scowls. It’s a good point. Anakin hadn’t wanted her romantically, had married another to prove it. She almost finds hope in it until she remembers that this man isn’t her Anakin. Vader is a selfish man and the force has determined Obi-Wan as his in his eyes. He will want her under his thumb because fate willed it so. She scowls. 

“Hello there,” an amused voice says from the corner and she nearly rockets out of the fancy sheets as Vader unveils himself in the force, revealing his presence to her. Suddenly, it’s like all the life in the room is gone including her own. His darkness is so powerful, so enveloping, that he may as well be dead. And she with him. She controls her features, making sure she doesn’t seem as startled as she feels, but he laughs at her anyway. 

“Hello,” she says cooly, wanting to appear unaffected. He approaches the bed, kneeling next to her, yellow eyes staring down from the place where beloved blue used to reside. She represses the shudder that rises in her, not wanting to offend the monster in her presence. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he says, reaching gentle fingers out to touch a strand of her hair, allowing it to fall through them as he lifts it. A sad look enters his gaze, but she doesn’t allow herself to think about it. 

“I remember Mustafar just fine.” Her response is sharp, but the new look in his eyes is sharper. His hand launches forward before she can even think to react, his grip harsh and unyielding on her jaw as he forces her to look him in the eye. His yellow eye. She fights down vomit. Slowly, he relaxes his hold, his eyes softening as well. The anger that flows so quickly has ebbed, bringing her back to relative safety for the moment. 

“You would be wise to remember who I am,” he slowly says, “I am not your precious Anakin. I love you in a way he never could.” The breath feels as though its been rung out of her lungs like a sponge full of water. She should be dying. Instead, she just stares at the demon who stole her soulmate’s body. Still, she never has been one to back down. 

“And I will _never_ love you. Not the way I loved him,” she asserts and he snarls, throwing himself off the bed before he does something drastic. Obi-Wan goes to shove him against the wall, but she can’t. Her captor has made his position very clear now. She is his prisoner, cut off from the force and at his beck and call. This time she can’t repress her anger. 

_“You-“_ he starts, but she cuts him off. 

“I don’t know who you are and quite frankly I don’t care. Anakin, Vader, either one, you have zero right to me and should do well to remember that. _You_ didn’t choose _me!_ A long time ago! Whatever this is, I don’t want it. I have moved past you,” she snarls, standing on wobbly legs. She feels stronger than she has in a long time and wonders how long she’s been on this ship. 

How long had he kept her under for before thinking it was okay to wake her up?

“You have been mine since the beginning, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You were _Anakin’s_ when you were raising him, you were his when he was knighted, you were still his when he married Padmé, you were his throughout the war and you were _mine_ the second you landed on Mustafar. You’ve only ever been mine and to delude yourself otherwise is dumb on your part. I will _not_ let you go,” he snarls and suddenly he’s in her face again, his sweet breath wafting across her cheekbones. She closes her eyes tight, knowing he isn’t wrong. Obi-Wan always loved Anakin most. Even more than she had loved Satine at one point. Tears well again, but she forces them back.

“You married someone else! You gave up your claim to be my soulmate when you gave your soul to her in your vows,” she hisses and it’s true. He knows she’s right. That is the law of soulmates, a law that still exists in the Empire. Padmé Amidala was the wife of Anakin Skywalker though, and that man is _dead._ Vader is the phoenix from the ashes and he isn’t foolish like the boy that once could have loved this firebird of a soulmate. Vader appreciates the warrior spirit in his Obi-Wan in ways Anakin never could have. 

“Anakin Skywalker is legally dead. He died in the Jedi purges alongside one _Obi-Wan Kenobi._ We may be shells of what we once were in your view, but we belong to each other. I will accept nothing less.” Her breath catches in her throat and she knows that she has no legal bearing. She never did. She is a Jedi fugitive and Lord Vader runs the Empire. Her soul was sold by him a long time ago. Boldly, she declares something she had thought no longer true until a few moments ago. 

“I _am_ Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi! _That_ is who I am. _You_ are my spoiled, bratty, presumptuous former padawan who assumes I will fall in line because it’s you who’s asking. Well, guess what? I promised my soul to Satine, not long after your wedding. We don’t belong to each other anymore, Darth. We both made our vows and they weren’t to each other,” she shouts, spinning on her heal and storming towards the fresher door on the other side of the room. He halts her movements, his face pinched in anger before he relaxes, a sickly amused smirk coming over his features. 

“I will let you believe what you like for now, Obi-Wan... Since you have determined yourself back from the dead, I’ll happily call you that instead of Ben. I have something I wish to show you,” he chuckles, using the force to drag her along. 

They walk down several corridors in silence before he shoves her against the transparisteel lining the hallway, revealing a room below. There, working at a console, is none other than Korkie Kryze, the boy who she knew loved Satine like a mother. There had been another life once, one where Obi-Wan considered leaving to help Satine with her nephew. They could’ve raised him together. At the time though, Obi-Wan had another boy to raise, one she chose before the blond below her. She swallows, looking away from both Korkie and Anakin, mind spinning with lost possibilities and terrible realities. She feels hot breaths on her ears before he says anything, savoring it for a moment. 

“You will behave, Obi-Wan. If not for this child, for the force-sensitive child of Bail Organa. They both will be under threat if you step out of line,” he growls before gesturing for someone. She purposely doesn't react to Vader bringing up Leia, but the fear is freezing in her core. 

_How much does Vader know?_

“Take my friend back to my quarters if you please,” Vader orders and the man salutes before harshly grabbing her arm. She follows, not knowing what else she can do. 

 

 

 

 

Vader, angry as he’s ever been, stomps into the hangar where Artoo and threepio converse. Today, Artoo tries to jog the other droid’s memory with stories of their adventures. This particular memory is of Anakin and Padmé’s wedding on Naboo where they were the only witnesses. Vader stands there for a moment, overcome with an anger he didn’t know he could feel; self loathing. Sure, Vader has denounced Anakin Skywalker as weak, has destroyed the parts of him that used to exist on the light side, but he hadn’t ever hated the boy as he did now. 

He hates that the boy married another besides the firebird that is more than likely curled up sleeping in his bed. He hates that Anakin had been stupid enough to think a senator whose first love had always been her people would be able to put him first the way Obi-Wan had. 

Don’t get him wrong, Obi-Wan was the perfect Jedi. She obeyed the code, she fought for ideals with an intense passion and she did what was always expected of her without fail. Her greatest weakness, however, had been him. Not Satine, not Ahsoka, not herself… It was _him._ He smiles viciously from the shadows, overcome with the pleasure of such a thought. 

Still though, his wedding progresses before him, the childlike Anakin Skywalker grinning so wildly that even Vader is a little uncomfortable. He had been so in lust with the senator- his _wife_ , idealizing her in an unhealthy way. That lust and idealization, along with his teenage need to rebel against his mentor, had taken him from Obi-Wan in the cruelest way. He sighs angrily, making his presence known to the two droids. 

“Oh Master Vader, thank the maker you’re here! Artoo Deetoo will not stop showing me events I cannot remember. It is very distressing to my systems,” Threepio rambles to him. Vader makes a show of smiling and placing a placating hand on the droid. 

“It’s okay, Threepio. Artoo missed you in your absence, he’s just trying to help you remember because he cares,” he says and Threepio mumbles something in response, the words whiney but rushed to the point where Vader doesn’t quite hear them. He nearly sighs, some things never change. Artoo is ignoring him still, he’s sure, so he places a hand on his dome, hoping to initiate a response. He isn’t disappointed. 

**Did your captive react well to your declarations of love?** He snarks and Vader scoffs. Artoo will forgive him eventually, he knows but he is taking his sweet time. 

“No,” is all he reveals and the little droid chortles out his laugh. Vader quirks a corner of his lips up in a small smile. He can’t afford to let his fondness for Artoo allow the droid to continue his disrespect, but Vader can’t help it. He’s missed Artoo. 

**Didn’t think so. I’m sure the force inhibitor didn’t help either,** Artoo scolds lightly and Vader’s lips pull down in a slight frown. He hadn’t thought about how that would make Obi-Wan angry with him. How it would make her feel like a prisoner… It was mainly for her safety so the Emperor didn’t discover her location. 

“Don’t worry about Obi-Wan, Artoo. Why don’t we see what we can do about Threepio?” He asks and Artoo squeals in excitement, taking off towards the golden droid who has made his way across the hangar. 

“Oh! My _word!_ ” Vader laughs as Threepio protests to Artoo who keeps rolling into the protocol droid’s legs. For a moment, it feels as though nothing has changed from how it used to be. 

 

 

 

 

A chime at the door has Obi-Wan shooting up from where she had fallen asleep in Vader’s quarters. There is very little in here meant to entertain her as his captive. Maybe she can ask for something. Maybe the beast will feel merciful enough to grant her that small a gift. She scoffs lightly to herself, pulling her legs out from under the covers and placing them in her slippers on the floor. When she reaches the door, she presses her palm on the pad, surprised when it opens. 

Standing in front of her is Korkie Kryze himself a stoic look on his face even as his eyes are full of a mischievous sparkle Obi-Wan instantly recognizes. She knows the official story is that Korkie is Satine’s nephew and the woman always claimed that to be the truth, but sometimes Obi-Wan wonders. The boy was far too much like her to be her nephew really. That mischievous look is _all_ Satine. 

“I have brought your dinner,” he says and Obi-Wan nods, taking the tray from the boy. His lips betray him as he bows, his face out of view of the security cameras. They quirk up in a sly grin that nearly has Obi-Wan giggling. The boy is very clearly up to something. 

“Thank you very much…” she pauses, pretending to look at his name tag as to not appear as though she knows him to whoever monitors her area on the ship, “Officer Kryze.” He nods again respectively, turning on his heel and walking off. She brings the tray into Vader’s quarters, looking at the bland food for whatever it is she’s sure Korkie has brought her. Sure enough, there is paper taped under the metal tray. 

 

_Ben,_

_I hope you’re okay and that your capture has not been too terrible. I have managed to get the job to bring you your meals. Anything O has to update you on I will bring to you with your meals. If you have anything to send to him, leave it with your garbage under the plate or bowl. Good luck._

_Your friend and admirer,_

_K_

 

She smiles at last. The note soon finds itself burning in the fresher with the dehumidifier and shower on, clearing the smoke faster than other areas of the house. When it’s sufficiently burnt, she flushes it and shuts everything off. Climbing back into bed, she waits for her beast to arrive again, but her future seems less bleak. 

Korkie is working with Bail undercover. 

She still has some hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter up! let me know what you think of it !


	4. Chapter 4

Obi-Wan stretches, swinging her legs off of the side of the bed. Her soulmate is nowhere to be found, the beast apparently deciding to give her space this fine morning. Her closet has been stocked and its full of beautiful clothing she never would have worn in her past life. She wrinkles her nose, shifting through the items until she finds some black leggings and a loose blue tunic. She has no need for fancy clothes like the ones Vader has insisted in buying her. 

Her mate has not given her shoes unfortunately, for what reason she isn’t quite sure and isn’t willing to ask. If its compliance he wants, or an opportunity to bargain with her in order for her to get shoes, he will be sorely disappointed. She doesn’t care if her feet get injured onboard this monstrosity, all that means is a night in her own bed away from Vader. She smirks, _wouldn’t that be a luxury._

A knock on the door startles her and she curses being cut off from the force. Obi-Wan has never been one who gets spooked, the force always her ally and warning her. Now though, she knows how those poor folks in those horror films Ahsoka loved so much felt when they were surprised by unpleasant sources. She frowns, knowing that her poor pseudo-daughter is out there on her own. 

She palms the door open, revealing Korkie on the other side. She smiles at the young man, taking the tray from him and thanking him for his time. It has been three weeks since his first correspondence and she hasn’t received anymore letters, but she checks every time. She’s desperate at this point to communicate with something that isn’t Vader. 

She misses the force like a missing limb. 

There, under the plate again is a note. She gasps in delight, reading what it is Korkie has brought her this time. 

 

_Ben,_

_Fulcrum is on sight with the suns._

_O_

 

Obi-Wan lets out a sigh she didn’t know she’d been holding, letting her body sag, relaxing for the first time in so long. _Luke is safe._ Ahsoka has reported to Tatooine and will watch over him in Obi-Wan’s steed. She just breathes for a moment, clutching the flimsi in her hand as if it is a lifeline. She lets her joy surround herself before moving to the bathroom to burn the note just like last time. 

She’s eating her breakfast when Vader storms in, all black smoke in the way the fabric flies around him. She rolls her eyes, biting into the fruit provided. It isn’t fresh, she can tell that it has been modified and isn’t in season. She wrinkles her nose at the offensive taste and places it on the tray. Vader clears his throat to get her attention and she looks up at him with bored eyes. 

“How are you?” He asks and she scoffs, standing and dumping her tray where she’s been specified to. She can hear it fall down the shaft, the plastic bowl clunking against the steel walls. She looks back at her mate who is admiring her figure through her clothing. If she had the force she’d throw him for that. Alas, all she can do is glare. She’s pretty sure Vader would love a fight with her, the opportunity to pin her underneath his weight- She cuts her thoughts off. 

“Obi-Wan, don’t be like that,” he begs, approaching her with a raised hand, cupping her jaw, “I love the sound of your voice. Don’t rob me of that.” The part of her that has never been able to tell this boy no tells her to give in and just hold him, but she knows she can’t. Still, she can speak to him because she’s desperate enough for communication after her desert isolation. 

“Don’t be like what? Angry you robbed me of my freedom and destroyed my life?” She asks, tilting her head mockingly. Vader pouts, still in her space despite her cutting words. His palm is calloused against her skin. Obi-Wan leans into the touch subconsciously, knowing that this all she ever wanted when they were both Jedi. All she ever wanted was to be what Anakin chose, but the man couldn’t do that for her. Why should she give in now when all she is is a second choice? Still, she doesn’t move. 

“I’ve made sure that you’re safe and eating. You were wasting away on that dustbowl,” he says and leans further into her presence. Their bond flairs to life, practically sparkling in her mind and she’s concerned for a moment. Even without the force, their bond is powerful enough to sparkle with hints of it. Like someone starved of water, she latches onto it with vigor, drinking the small amounts of the force that linger along it. 

Vader takes it as something else. 

She wants to run, but she can’t, trapped in the feeling of the force and her mate in her mind for the first time in so long. She’s scared then when it occurs to her that Anakin feels so different, so unlike the young man who would meditate with her after a long mission back in the temple. His presence is dark, suffocating and a sick part of her _likes it._ His presence is a dark harmony to her own, two complimentary halves, _balance._

She gasps when his lips find hers, slotting together perfectly. She kisses him back for a moment, caught up in all that he is and what they could be before she wrenches herself from his grip, falling to the ground in the process. Obi-Wan glares up at Vader who just smiles down at her from above, his eyes glinting with barely restrained power. 

“Do you see now? You were meant for me, Obi-Wan. Not that silly little boy you trained, _me._ I am the only one for you,” he growls possessively, taking a step towards her. Again, she finds herself unable to move as his presence returns, drowning her in the sweet seduction since she cannot reach the light on her own. She scrambles backwards and to her feet, rushing into the kitchen area of his quarters. For three weeks, Vader has given her space, but he seems unwilling to now as he advances after her. Obi-Wan opens the drawers looking for something, _anything-_ Arms bracket her to the counter and she turns, staring up into amused golden eyes.

“I am not a thing, Vader… You cannot possess me,” she breathes, feeling as his teeth and lips make contact with her neck. He bites down harshly, Obi-Wan bucking in his hold. He chuckles, bringing his face back into view and revealing his swollen full lips. She brings her fingers up, tracing them lightly without really thinking about it. He smirks and then pulls away, sweeping out of her grasp into the other room. She feels ashamed for a moment, knowing that had he pushed further in that moment she would’ve done anything he wanted. Still, Obi-Wan follows him out into the living room where he is kicking off his shoes and lounging on their sofa.

“You are not a thing, Obi-Wan, but you are infinitely precious to me. Please understand my need to be so possessive comes from my love for you,” he says and it isn’t begging. No, Vader truly couldn’t care less if Obi-Wan believes him or not because its true. He just wants her in his arms where she belongs; healthy and alive. He pats the seat next to him and she goes willingly, curling into his presence. She can indulge in this comfort she hasn’t felt in years. 

Her mission is clearer than ever. Perhaps she is in a position here where she can do more good than she would’ve been able to on Tatooine. Still, the lack of the light side of the force worries her. Vader’s power is truly intoxicating in a way she never worried about. If this is something she gets too used to, she will find the light hard to grasp should she ever be free. 

“You can understand where the force suppression collar makes me feel otherwise, yes?” It is the cruelest punishment for a force sensitive, something Vader knows definitively. He hums, but offers no response, turning the TV on. She sighs, knowing he will offer her nothing else in response. She just stays curled up on the sofa, watching the dumb soap opera Anakin loved when they were Jedi and Vader clearly still favors. She sighs, letting her eyes slip closed.

 

_“Master, please!” Obi-Wan hears a young voice plead. Her surroundings are a gray blur, but she follows the sound, knowing that voice despite being sure she’s never heard it before. She can tell she’s in a hallway, but where she isn’t sure. Suddenly, the room opens and it’s a training salle, the walls such a deep gray they might as well be black. In the room is Vader, his blond hair and yellow eyes easy to distinguish. She’d always be able to feel him, she feels, no escape possibly. The other figure is… a young girl._

_For a moment, Obi-Wan is so sure she’s looking at Padmé she has to take a step forward. The two figures clearly don’t sense her so she approaches, horrified to find why the young girl looks so much like the deceased Senator. She looks like her because she’s her daughter._ Leia. 

_“We do not tolerate weakness, Little One, you know this. Get up,” her soulmate harshly orders his daughter and Obi-Wan wonders how much Vader knows in this moment. Is this father and daughter in front of her or master and apprentice? In the background, she watches a version of herself emerge in all black and go to stand with Vader._

_“Hello, My Love,” he greets and Obi-Wan watches this twisted version of herself lean in for a kiss, “would you like to punish our young guest this morning?” The other Obi-Wan flinches just barely visibly and declines. Her eyes are a startling yellow and she says nothing as Vader begins to punish his apprentice. His daughter._

 

Obi-Wan startles awake, Vader turning to look at her with concern. _What was that?_ She finds herself moving away from her soulmate, his presence losing its appeal after her… vision. That has to be what it was, it all felt so real. It couldn’t be though, she is cut off from the force. He sighs angrily, trying to follow her, but she stands, moving across the room.

“This again?” He demands and she shrugs, still not coming any closer to him. The vision unsettled her for a lot of reasons, but mainly herself in it and Leia’s presence. 

“What do you want with the Organa girl?” Obi-Wan asks because he had mentioned her weeks ago when they first got here. He knows Leia and he knows she is force sensitive. Vader just smirks on the sofa, clearly contemplating how he wants to answer.

“I need an apprentice,’ he says eventually, “and she is very strong. Her presence is angry already, she would be an excellent Sith.” Obi-Wan feels bile edging up her throat. Is this what Palpatine had seen in a young Anakin Skywalker? This potential anger and hatred? She rushes to the fresher, allowing her breakfast to land in the toilet as it makes a dramatic reappearance. Vader is immediately next to her, holding her hair back as her stomach empties itself. 

“Obi, are you okay?” The nickname has her retching again, her stomach desperate to be empty like it was in the desert. This luxury is not deserved, this life is not hers, and if she stays she is in danger of losing everything she’s ever held dear again. 

“I’m fine,” she mutters, standing and shoving him away, moving to brush her teeth. Leia is in danger, everything Bail and Obi-Wan worked for in jeopardy, and Vader holds her like she’s the most important thing in his life. Which she probably is in a sick way. Vader frowns, watching as Obi-Wan goes and sits down on the sofa again, clearly determined not to interact anymore with him today. 

“I will have the staff bring you dinner… Is there anything else you would like?” He waits for her stoney exterior to break, thinking that they had made so much progress today and ending it like this would be a shame. Obi-Wan huffs, but offers no other response. She is done with him for now. 

Vader sighs loud enough that he knows she can hear, grabbing the cloak from where he draped it on a chair earlier. He punches in commands for tea and some old books to be brought up. Obi-Wan has always loved romantic comedies as much as she wants people to see her as the serious general she once was. He smiles, knowing that even if he receives no thanks, she will have something she genuinely enjoys to do while he is busy. 

He touches his lips, knowing they’re still swollen from earlier. His smile widens. Their bond had been so alive, so wonderful. He’s never felt anything like it and he knows she hasn’t either. That feeling alone is worth everything to him. 

He and Obi-Wan were made for each other by the force itself. 

To believe anything else would be a crime against the galaxy as a whole. When he’s Emperor, he’ll make sure it’s seen that way. 

Feeling bold, he walks over to his mate, placing a kiss on her forehead that must feel like the bran he means it as. He then sweeps from the quarters, once again the cloud of black he had been when he entered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh another chapter of this weird au! let me know what you think of it !

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVENT WRITTEN IN SO LONG THIS FELT SO GOOD!!! ugh college is kicking my ass, but i'm really happy i got this idea out it's been in my prompt list for a while now. let me know what you think of the first chapter, i will probably continue it!


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